In the early hours of the morning where the sky has yet to lose its dusk, a gathering of tall and impossibly slender beings wearing the guise of human silhouettes creep through the cities of the High King. Their robes which seem to be the entirety of their body are a dowry shade of brown, akin to the tattered furs, leathers and dirtied cloth adorned by beggars and the impoverish. The only trait to set these creatures aside from mortals, is their grace of movement; sweeping through Stormwind's back-streets or Ironforge's dim-lit tunnels between wards; under the dank of the Deeprun and even so far as the outlying towns of Lakeshire and Darkshire. When noticed or approached, the creatures flare bright for a second and return to the inanimate state of a robe. Faint traces of the arcane untainted by corruption linger. If one would peer inside the empty cloth and fur container of these constructs, they would find scrolls bearing the same writing as the posters placed above.

They Read:

I would address you as "Citizens of the Alliance", but that phrase has long since lost its meaning.My name is not important; my identity is not important.Those of you who call yourselves Alliance; call yourselves residents of this world, even. Who wish to see it protected, lend me your eyes and cast them on the following words.Our lives are in turmoil as a result of many hardships, we live each day with the over-arching threat of the Horde one day breaking down Stormwind's gates as their progenitors once did; some of us live in fear of the Legion's intervention and some of us content with demons of the mortal realm such as poverty, sickness, hunger and disease.No single man, woman or creature beyond will put right these wrongs for us.

As I sit down to write this and prepare its delivery, a band of killers slumber within Duskwood assuming their safety is secured. Who are they? The Black Hand. A group of bloodthirsty creatures, who wield necromantic and plague-bringing power; killing our kin, friends and loved ones under the masquerade of balance.

How long must we cower in the damp, and tolerate their presence? Until the Stormwind Council gathers the army; or the Ebon Blade resolve their petty strife with the former. Until the Blades lose another; until another mage is dead. Another body dropped from the back of a skeletal gryphon; another dead guardsmen?

We are all to blame for their existence, for we have all argued against one another. The Stormwind Council is not without fault, but it is a council built of mortals and we all possess flaws. Do not fight them, but do not wait for them to declare action. We have lost many, and internal bickering only gives the Hand more time to act against us. Cooperate where you can, please.

I implore you, reader. Take up the cloth woven within the messenger at your feet, it is dyed blue. Wear it upon your person, or carry it in support of defeating these so-called "cults" that plague our land. Your race; your gender; your profession and your history are irrelevant to this campaign. Call this whatever you like, gather with your fellows wearing the blue, come together and support one another. Plan your moves carefully, and work to expunge the evil from our land.

Duskwood, despite its appearances, is still our land. Still within the Kingdom of Stormwind, and to you humans who remember the first war; it is still part of the country we fought to protect.

Thank you.

Investigating the posters and messengers

Placement- They are placed away from popular patrol routes, yet not completely out of sight. Whoever instructed the messengers has a clear grasp of how the Stormwind Regiment operates.

Arcane Measurements- Scrying the parchment, robes or messengers would reveal a block has been placed on those attempting to divine a sympathetic link to the caster and writer. Whoever has done this is either paranoid, or has a wealth of knowledge on how to block magic (abjuration).- The messengers are akin to artificial elementals, simulacrums, with very few commands imposed by their creator. An analyst of the arcane would be able to deduce that they are conjurations, bound to the robes by runes of enchantment.- The blue cloth and parchment found within the robes have no magical properties what-so-ever.

(( Thought I'd try my hand at this poster business, y'know destroying the trees and such. If you're interested in this initiative, please post bellow or send me some kind of PM! ))

Simaria spots one of the long, odd looking creatures. She hesitates a second before curiosity win and she approach.

Not long after she stands with a scroll in hand and confused. She unroll the scroll and read, her lips curling. Blue. She could do that. Oh she would definite wear the blue. She picks up the blue clothing an turns, walking away.

*Decurius, returning from the usual night hunt finds the posters. Peering at them, takes one and reads it, carefully. "Dreamer..." he mutters, before letting a long sigh, putting the poster in his pouch. "The living don't want our help, or mine. Time for them to face the consequences of their stupidity. I have no reason to fight for Stormwind."*

Sahera tilts her head curiously at the peculiar figure. She walks over to it and caaarefully reaches out to poke it, blinking rapidly as it poofs into thin air. Without even reading the poster she picks up the blue clothing, smiling brightly. She ties the blue piece of cloth around her waist, adding to the many other colourful shawls she has on her person. "Such fortune! Blue is my favourite colour." She happily dances along the streets on her bare feet, bracelets, trinkets and bells rattling as she moves.

Two eyes follow the pace of the figure from a shadow close to the rooftops. A minute later, the same figure of a masked female wearing dark and red colors is standing before the poster. Lifting two fingers, she trace the writtin in the light of a small orb of magical light floating at the tip of the gloved fingers. Reading through the poster, the two eyes close and the figure stands unmoving a moment, before dashing back into the shadows, the poster and cloth left untouched.

Timna slinks after one of the creatures nearby her shop, which is very much out of the way. Upon it placing the poster and vanishing, she searches it thoroughly and takes all items back into the Cogworks with a frown to read inside rather than in the freezing cold of the evening.

_____________________________________________________[A] Timna "Void"- "To let go of my past, but always remember." & "Spite grows in idle soldiers."[A] Victoriya Torosian - "Wha'cha got there?"[A] Ariandra Fox-Alence - "I remember I could not leave. No shackles were as terrifying as his stare upon me at that moment, like a coyote staring at its prey."[A] Aldaya "The Sculptor" Vindico - "Have the heart that I lost, child. Treat it and others well, as long as it beats, and even when it no longer does."

After the interesting display Allonia picks up the cloth and the poster, peering at them with a frown. After reading the text she thinks a moment, then proceeds to stuff them both in her satchel and move on, a piece of the blue fabric sticking out.

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Ricki also approached one of the robe heaps after watching the interesting trick unfold in Darkshire, then reads the poster."Hah! Like something like that would ever work on those fools. No, they are all long since doom-- hm, but this fabric is nice. Maybe I can use it for something..."

*As Christina walks down the streets with now rather heavy steps, she approaches one of those men. She perks a brow, only to walk over and touch it carefully. She blinks as it disapears, only to stare at the scroll it left.. She would bend down to pick it up with a "Mrrpfhh" as her belly have grown slightly big by now.. She un-scrolls the scroll, reading through it. "Yes.. I indeed lost -too manny- to those undead worms.. But I cannot fight like this.." She sighs as she takes the blue cloth, and ties it around her upper arm. "I guess that I atleast can wear this to help with the morale.." She would roll the scroll together again, put it into her bag, and walk off again with heavy steps.*

Rashka

Posts : 590Join date : 2012-08-04Age : 19Location : Denmark

Character sheetName: Rashka FacebreakerTitle: Champion of Blood, Champion of the Red Blades, & Former Champion of the Horde.